


And cannot get a crown

by Dispatches (orphan_account)



Category: 24
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-10
Updated: 2010-05-10
Packaged: 2017-10-09 09:39:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/85801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Dispatches
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For <a href="http://jaybee65.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://jaybee65.livejournal.com/"><b>jaybee65</b></a> for the <a href="http://community.livejournal.com/halfamoon/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://community.livejournal.com/halfamoon/"><b>halfamoon</b></a> fest, prompt: "dressed to kill". <i>There are those in the party who compare her to Lady Macbeth.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	And cannot get a crown

There are those in the party who compare her to Lady Macbeth. It makes David angry when he hears that -- "These people are supposed to be our supporters! Don't they realise I'm the one they're insulting when they say these things?" -- but Sherry just smiles, laughs it off, secretly pleased.

(Careful with the makeup -- too much and you'll look cheap, too little and you'll look unfeminine. Same with the clothes: you have to look respectable, formal, well-heeled -- but also soft, human, approachable. Never be seen in public without your hair relaxed: white voters find natural hair intimidating. Spend plenty of time with your children and make sure everyone knows about it, but don't let it look like you're contriving photo-ops or the press will say you're exploiting them. Use your skills and contacts to help your husband; never let anyone know you're really helping yourself.

And smile.)

She has known David for so long that he has almost lost the capacity to surprise her -- almost. He trusts her implicitly, but she knows he has limits; what she doesn't know is where, exactly, those limits lie. If she tells a half-truth to the press and lets him believe it's the whole truth, will he forgive her if (when) he finds out?

(Word your answers carefully; if the question presupposes a premise your campaign doesn't accept, don't answer as if the premise were valid. Stay on-message at all times. Never let any of your answers contradict the campaign's positions, but don't delve too deeply into the issues; you are not the candidate, and if you display too much inside knowledge the press will start muttering that you're running the show. Remember what the GOP did to Hillary.

And smile.)

If. When. No, if -- it's been seven years, now, since the scum who raped their daughter died, not by suicide, not quite by accident. Seven is a magical number; let someone disappear for seven years and the law can declare them dead. Let a dead man lie dead for seven years and surely, surely it no longer matters whether he fell or was pushed.

She would have pushed him off that ledge with her own hands if she could. She is not ashamed that her son did just that. Yet Keith is ashamed, and she thinks no less of him for it. He is a politician's son, not a politician; his hands are cleaner than hers, no matter what he might think. David's hands are clean, too, and that's all to the good: she can hide behind him and do all the things he doesn't believe are necessary, make sure he stays pristine for the cameras -- more: make sure he keeps believing in all the things he says he believes in.

(On the day of the primary, be present and visible, but don't get in the way. Hold his hand for the cameras and gaze adoringly at him; answer the questions you're asked but don't seek the press out, no matter what you hear being said on TV or the radio. At no point concede the possibility of failure. Make sure you're dressed as elegantly as if you were already the First Lady.

And smile.

And smile.)

[end]

**Author's Note:**

> Title and inspiration from _Henry VI Part III_, act III, scene II:
> 
> "Why, I can smile, and murder whiles I smile,  
>  And cry 'Content!' to that which grieves my heart,  
>  And wet my cheeks with artificial tears,   
>  And frame my face to all occasions.  
>  I'll drown more sailors than the mermaid shall;  
>  I'll slay more gazers than the basilisk;  
>  I'll play the orator as well as Nestor,  
>  Deceive more slily than Ulysses could,  
>  And, like a Sinon, take another Troy.  
>  I can add colours to the chameleon,  
>  Change shapes with Protheus for advantages,  
>  And set the murderous Machiavel to school.  
>  Can I do this, and cannot get a crown?"


End file.
